What I Really Meant to Say
by Angel Grace
Summary: Trory fic. Songfic as well, but please give it a chance in spite of that! This is what happens when Rory and Tristan finally meet again.


Pairing: R/T

Rating: PG, if that

Spoilers: Up to and including the season 2 episode "Run Away Little Boy."

Disclaimer: The characters referenced here are the property of Amy Sherman-Palladino, Dorothy Parker Drank Here Productions, and Warner Brother Television.  No copyright infringement is intended.  The characters are being used solely for entertainment purposes, and no profit is being made from them.  

**What I Really Meant to Say**

**by**** Grace**

_It took me by surprise_

_When I saw you standing there_

She walked into the room, and it was as if my eyes were drawn to a homing beacon within her.  It had been eight months, and although I knew it was bound to happen sooner or later, I hadn't expected it to be this moment, this place, these people.

My stomach dropped to my toes, my heart flew to my throat, and every cell in my body suddenly felt more alive for being in her presence.  My feet acted of their own accord, and I discovered myself moving steadily towards her.

_Close enough to touch_

_Breathing the same air_

                I could smell the light, sweet floral of her perfume, the strawberry of her shampoo, even a hint of coffee that I'm sure she had just been drinking.  We were only inches apart by then, close enough that I could feel the warmth radiating from her porcelain skin.  Just a few more inches…I had to consciously stay my hand to keep it from brushing back the stray lock of dark, silken hair that had fallen across her perfect, lightly rosy cheek.

_You asked me how I've been_

_I guess that's when I smiled and said just fine_

                She finally noticed my presence beside her, and her attention shifted.  I saw those gorgeous blue eyes widen in shock, and then she gave me a tentative, sweet smile.

                "Tristan!  I didn't know you were back.  How have you been?"

                "Just fine," I replied easily, the familiar smirk slipping effortlessly into place.  "Even military schools open the prison gates for the summer.  I'm actually surprised to see _you here—the Chilton social infrastructure was never really your scene."_

                Her smile widened, and my heart clenched.  "I guess things have changed while you were gone.  Paris and I have resolved our differences, and I've even made some—dare I say it?—friends.  But what about you?  How was military school?"

                "Oh, you know…just fine."

_Oh but baby, I was lying_

                I was lying, of course.  Military school had been an eight-month nightmare, without even reprieves for Christmas or spring breaks.  The DuGreys are very thorough when it comes to banishing members of the family.

                Nonetheless, I kept my fake smile plastered firmly in place.  "It really wasn't anything I didn't expect—bad food, tough classes, a strict physical regimen, and tiny dorm rooms that were never the right temperature."

                The light in her eyes dimmed slightly, and I suspected she could see through my bravado.

                "You don't seem noticeably worse for wear," she commented lightly.

                I suppose I wasn't—at least on the outside.

_What I really meant to say_

_Is I'm dying here inside_

                The family had trained me well—to keep up appearances at all costs.  It should have been the DuGrey family motto, instead of whatever nonsense was inscribed in Latin on the crest that hung above the fireplace.  I knew my parents would only consider it a weakness if they realized I had missed my life in Hartford.

                Sure, my parents' estate was cold and emotionless, but it was the only home I had ever known.  I missed my friends at Chilton, and the familiar routine of school.

                But most of all, I missed Rory.

_And I miss you more each day_

_There's not a night I haven't cried_

                In truth, my memories of Rory were the only things that kept me going all the long, hard nights in North Carolina.  Each day that passed was one day closer to being reunited with her.  In my heart and in my mind, she was the only thing that mattered.

                It was good that my father had at least requested a private room for me.  I don't think a roommate would have understood the nightmares that shot me bolt upright out of bed, drenched in a cold sweat, tears streaming down my face, crying out Rory's name.

                My subconscious was plagued by images of her—watching her retreating form as she ran to Dean and declared her hatred of me; the concern etched on her features as she questioned my behavior junior year; her sweet smile as I said goodbye; and most heart-wrenching of all, the look on her face the instant before we kissed at Madeline's party.

_And baby here's the truth_

_I'm still in love with you_

                I'm not really sure when conquest became curiosity, curiosity became a crush, a crush became infatuation, and finally infatuation became love.  All I knew was that what I felt for her was love—and I had never loved a girl before.

                If I hadn't loved her, I would have kissed her the night of _Romeo and Juliet, the consequences of her boyfriend witnessing that be damned.  The only thing that stopped me was knowing she would be hurt by my actions, and I wasn't going to do that anymore._

_That's what I really meant to say_

                I realized then that Rory was gazing at me intently, waiting for a response to her last statement.

                "Like I said, I'm just fine.  I'll see you around…Mary."

                As I turned to rejoin the party, I heard her whisper, "Goodbye, Tristan," and my heart broke at the finality of her words.

*              *              *

_And as you walked away_

_The echo of my words_

_Cut just like a knife_

_Cut so deep it hurt_

                I watched his slowly retreating form, and suddenly I wanted to call out to him, to keep him from leaving, to keep him from walking away from me again.

                Why had I said goodbye?  Why had I made it sound as though I never wanted to see or speak to him again?  That wasn't the case at all.  When I had seen him standing there beside me, I couldn't breathe.  I had thought of him so many times since his departure, thought of so many things I wished I had said and done before he left.

_I held back the tears_

_Held on to my pride_

_And watched you go_

                I had been handed a second chance, and I was standing here watching it slip away.  Tears were pricking at my eyelids, but I refused to let them fall.  I wouldn't let these people see me cry.  My pride, my dignity, still mattered more to me than mending fences with Tristan.

_I wonder if you'll ever know_

                Deep down, I knew that I wasn't going to get a third chance with Tristan.  If I didn't stop him, if I didn't reach out to him now, he would never know the truth.  He would never know what was in my heart.

_What I really meant to say_

_Is I'm dying here inside_

                I had sworn to myself, after he left, that if this opportunity ever presented itself, I wouldn't let it pass by unfulfilled.  Yet here I was, doing exactly that.

                I wanted to tell him that his departure _had affected me, even as I tried to convince myself that it shouldn't have.  Rather than being able to settle comfortably back into my Dean-filled existence, there was a Tristan-shaped ache in my heart…and it had never gone away._

_And I miss you more each day_

_There's not a night I haven't cried_

                I had hoped that as the days passed, the pain of losing him would fade.  Instead, I found myself missing him more and more—the mischief in his voice, the twinkle in his eyes.

                Each night, before I fell asleep, I would mourn the fact that another day had passed without him in my life.  As the silent tears fell, I would fervently wish that the following day would bring him back to me.

_And baby here's the truth_

_I'm still in love with you_

                In the long days of his absence, I finally admitted to myself that I loved Tristan.  I hadn't wanted to, and I certainly hadn't tried to, but there it was nonetheless.  The one kiss we shared had been burned into my soul.  That handful of seconds awakened feelings in me that countless kisses with Dean never had.

                My relationship with Dean had foundered shortly after Tristan's departure.  Although we never spoke of it, I think perhaps he guessed that my heart was no longer with him—it was in North Carolina.

                Now, my heart was a mere eight feet away, yet it felt as distant as ever.  During the intervening months, I had rehearsed countless ways to tell Tristan all of this.  I had practiced speeches in my head.

                But all I had said was goodbye.

*              *              *

_What I really meant to say_

_Is I'm really not that strong_

                I couldn't do it.  I couldn't just walk away from her again.  Maybe if I was a stronger person, a better person, I could have allowed her to live her life in peace.  But I think everyone knows I'm not.

                Turning abruptly, I was stunned to see Rory staring at me.  I swiftly closed the distance between us, and grasped her by the hands.

                "Rory, I can't do this anymore.  There's something I need to tell you."

_No matter how I try_

_I'm still holdin' on_

                "There's something I need to say to you, too, Tristan," I replied.  "Please, let me go first."

                I watched his eyes darken with fear, and I gave his hands a reassuring squeeze.

                "I don't know exactly how to say this, Tristan.  It wasn't supposed to be like this…I wasn't supposed to feel this way…"

                "Rory, you're babbling," said Tristan gently.

                I took a deep, cleansing breath, and willed myself to meet his eyes.  "Tristan, I…I missed you.  Now that you're here, I don't want to lose you again."

_And here's the honest truth_

_I'm still in love with you_

                I was certain I must be dreaming.  Had Rory Gilmore just confessed that she missed me?  That she wanted me in her life?

                I glanced down at our still-clasped hands, and gently tugged her closer to me.

                "I missed you too, Rory.  And I…I know you're probably not going to want to hear this, but I…I love you.  I've loved you for so long, and I just had to tell you."

                I watched her eyes well up with tears, and I was certain the entire roomful of people could hear my heart breaking.  Slowly, I began to release her hands, but she gripped them tighter.

_Yeah, that's what I really meant to say_

                From the look of despair on his face, I knew I had better smile soon.

                "Tristan…"

                He ducked his head, refusing to meet my eyes.  "Don't worry, Rory.  I understand that you don't feel the same way.  I just needed you to know."

                I grinned in spite of myself.  "What I'm trying to say, Tristan, if you would just let me, is that I love you, too."

                His head snapped up, and I laughed at his dumbfounded expression.  My laughter was stifled as he pressed his lips to mine in a fervent, hungry kiss.

                When we broke apart at last, gasping for breath, he leaned his forehead against mine, and whispered, "Please say it again."

                "I love you, Tristan."  I had all along.

_That's what I really meant to say_

_That's what I really meant to say_

_*finis*_

"What I Really Meant to Say" was written by Cyndi Thomson, Chris Waters, and Tommy Lee James; performed by Cyndi Thomson.  Lyrics are used without permission.  No copyright infringement is intended, and no profit is being made from their use.


End file.
